


Rest Your Head

by callmearenegade



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tumblr: ImaginexHobbit, elves sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 16:59:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7582405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmearenegade/pseuds/callmearenegade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on:   Imagine being so busy with what you are working on that you have not slept in days. Your husband, Thranduil, finds you passed out in a pile of your work and carries you to bed </p><p>Thranduil carries his overworking queen to bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest Your Head

She was a linguist. Languages her chosen passion in her immortal life. It started when she was young and growing up in Mirkwood. She spoke Sindarin - her parents having taught it to her first as it was most prevalent but her mother had not been raised there. Rather, in Lothlórien and spoke Westron as well. By the time her teenage years had rolled around, she was fluent in both. She enjoyed being able to communicate with her mother without her father understanding, loved being able to read books her friends could not, even enjoyed translating the books so her friends could enjoy. It lead to her learning all the languages she could, spending time in Rivendell in the great library there, reading ancient books.

She was much older now and long ago returned to her home in Mirkwood. She translated texts for the king- her husband now, the thought made her smile and blush slightly- or for the library or anyone who called upon her skill. Not only did she speak all forms of the Elven dialects, she had recently become fluent Khuzdul- despite her husbands disgust with the language and Dwarves in general- which were the texts she were currently translating to Westron. When she had arrived in Rivendell for the changing of the season festival with her husband, Lord Elrond had pulled her aside. He spoke of a few of his troops finding the old texts, and requested her to translate the ‘few’ records for him. She had hastily agreed- a few old texts, there was no possibility of her turning them down. It was not until she was leaving the city that she received the text and decided that Elrond had understated the amount of text there was needing translating. While there were only a few books, the sheer amount of pages in each made an extreme task for any translator.

She was sitting in her study, the large rectangle desk was pushed against the wall, the tall chair had a -luckily- cushioned seat, and a few candles sat, emitting the light needed for tired elf eyes. The main text was planted perfectly between her 2 elbows placed in the table. The newly translated text sat next to her arms, covered in ink. The ink pot and quill sat next to her right hand, the fingers there stained with the substance. Though she had been working dedicated for an amount of time she wasn’t sure the exact measure of, the first text had barely been dented. The elf girl had finally dropped the quill, her head falling into her palms. She rubbed the heels of her palms into her eyes that had long since dried due to lack of sleep.

The tall wooden door of the study slowly pushed open, the lack of a knock telling her the one entering. She could hear the light rustling of a robe train dragging across the floor and felt long thin hands softly grab her shoulders. The long fingers gently squeezed her tense shoulder in the perfect way that almost had her moaning under the touch.

“ You’re so tense, My queen.” the voice whispered like velvet in her ears. The long fingers continued to squeeze her shoulders, quickly turning into a massage. Her head lulled back, eyes looking up to see the familiar face of her husband- the royal king of Mirkwood- standing over her. His blue eyes shined softly into hers, long blonde hair parted to sit perfectly on his shoulders, lips pulled in a gentle smile.

The queen pulled herself from the hands, turning her body to fully face the king and he walked around to lean against her desk.

“ When will I be able to read those translations?” Thranduil asked proudly, eyes scanning the papers that littered the desk, the ink spots that stained the old wood, smile wide on his face.

“ Why would you want to read old dwarven pages translated into Westron?” The queen sassed, stretching and rubbing her fingers and wrists that had stiffened and started to sore during her work. Thranduil chuckled, amused at her sass.

“ I want to read the amazing translations my beautiful, intelligent, hardworking wife slaved over. I want to be proud over your work.” Thranduil fawned before taking his wife’s hand into his, gently rubbing the hand with healing fingers. He flexed the fingers, liberating the joints and muscles from the tension. His wife sighed in relief, leaning back deeper into her chair with the relief of pain in her hand. Once he had reveled the hand of discomfort, he switched to the other while watching his wife’s face lightly calm and relax from the tension that it held.

“ Though, I see the event might take much time. I can see you have not yet begun to dent the texts.” Thranduil smirked as he pulled his hands away and as softly as possible, flipped through the pages of the ancient dwarven text. The leather of the covers felt old and dry on his fingers, the old parchment pages felt so stiff that the slightest mistake of pressure or movement on the page would tare the page beyond repair. The old ink on the pages looked fresh despite the outward appearance of the book, though the letters made no sense to him and the script printed in the book was illegible.

“ Why don’t you try to translate this giant, ancient book, and tell me how long it takes?!” the elf queen snapped, not catching the kings playful tone. She grabbed the text from his hand as quickly and harshly as she dared with its delicate state.

Thranduil looked at his wife, not very surprised at the outburst. He had known her long enough to see the subtle clues that many wouldn’t. He could see the slight glossiness of her eyes, the slight darkness below them, the tired pout of her lips, the slump of her shoulders, all hinting at her fatigued- and irritable- state. He knew her work habits. She was dedicated, it was one of his favorite qualities she possessed, but that lead to her not taking care of her self like she should. This project would consume her until she finished it. He just smiled at his wife.

“ I was only jesting you, my queen.” He smiled, leaning his head forward to kiss her forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment, letting the peace he brought her fill her mind, body, and soul before pulling away.

“ I can only imagine how difficult staring at that horrid dwarven handwriting must be. A martyr you are.” Thranduil flirted while his wife rolled her eyes. She brought her hands out before her and before her king, he took them gently in his hands. She gripped his long fingers with hers before pulling herself to stand with a sigh.

“ I wouldn’t go quite that far.” She smiled as she stretched out her long legs that had been out of use for too long. She turned her torso one direction, then the other, stretching her stiff back muscles. Thranduil gently pulled her arms forward, helping her stretch out her shoulders while she sent him a grateful smile. He stepped forward, his chest pressed lightly against his wife’s, and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, trail it across her jaw and up to her lips. He placed a gentle kiss there. He could feel his wife’s smile against his lips before pulling away and placing his forehead against hers.

“ You are going to be late.” She whispered to him, her eyes closed, enjoying the moment.

“ The counsel will understand. I had to bring my wife breakfast since most of the maids are afraid of interrupting her work.” The king stated, his wife letting out a bubble of laughter through her nose. She knew it was true, one too many times had she unintentionally scolded one of the maids for just doing their job.

Thranduil pulled away from her slightly and pushed one of his large hands into his robe pocket, pulling out an orange - brought from Rivendell by Elladen himself just yesterday- and a small circular piece of bread before placing it on the table next to him.

The queen quickly retrieved the orange from the table, peeling the citrus fruit in 2 easy peels before pulling the fruit apart and devouring it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she had been pulled away from her work. The orange becoming an irresistible thought.

“ How long has it been since you ate?” Thranduil asked, surprised by her but chuckling when a line of juice squirted from her mouth when she bit a piece. He whipped the juice form her chin as she chuckled embarrassed.

“ I think lunch yesterday.” she confessed slightly ashamed. She knew better than to do such a thing, but in her long life, it was a habit she had yet to break. Whenever she got invested in work, her body suffered. She was thankful for her elf being, if she was any other she could imagine the damage it would cause her.

Thranduil shook his head in disapproval. He worried about her. She would not starve, he knew that, she would eat eventually, her body telling her. Yet the king worried for the one he loved who remained in a trance when working. He sighed, he would not allow this to continue. He could not stop her work. If you asked, he would say he fears no one, but he feared the wrath of his wife. He could not stop her work and live happily. He had other ideas though.

“ Legolas will bring you food for the rest of the day. You won’t rip his head off and he needs to remain out of trouble after the trouble you two caused last week.” The king authorized. His tone stating the lack of sway room she had. The queen sighed but nodded her head in agreement. She hated being babied.

The queen placed her head against the kings strong chest, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him closer. Thranduil placed his hand on her hair, gently stroking as the other wrapped around her waist. They held for a moment, before the king placed a kiss on the crown of her head.

“ I won’t be back until late tonight. The amount of work and meetings I have will hold me. Do not wait up for me.” He whispered sadly into the queens hair before puling away. The queen nodded sadly, missing the company of her husband the past few days while their work separated them. She stretched up, placing a lingering kiss on his lips before pulling away. The king bowed lightly to his queen while she rolled her eyes at the gesture, before he walked out and headed out for his kingly duties. The queen took a quick walk around the office before sitting back down on her chair and getting immersed in her work.

*

King Thranduil was finally complete with his day. The moon was high in the sky, and had remained there for quite some time now. He sighed loudly as he walked though the halls to his chambers, relief and happiness rushing within him. His mind was slightly fuzzy, eyes blurring slightly, his body craving sleep. His long tasking day of counselling and correcting problems has been difficult on him, now he just wanted to wrap himself around his wife and sleep until his early morning call.

He pushed the door to his room open, the intricately carved wooden door seemed heavier now than before. He walked into the room, body slightly sagging with fatigue. He was much surprised to find the room brightly lit with candles. His bed was still pristine like the maids had made it this morning, the body of his his wife not in it. He walked into his bathroom, knowing it to be empty but having hopes to the contrary. The king knew she couldn’t have wandered too far, but he still felt a twinge of panic in him.

He walked out his door, walking to the end of the corridor to the guards stationed. They bowed at the king when they noticed his presence.

“ Have you had view of my wife since your shift?” He asked calmly, despite the panic bubbling in his chest that was most likely fueled by the tiredness of his mind.

“ No, my King.” One of the guards replied.

“ Prince Legolas saw her a few hours ago. She was working on her documents.” The other added quickly .Thranduil let out a mental sigh of relief, though he had suspected her to be in her office still.

“ Would you like us to send a search?” the first questioned. The king waved his hand in dismissal of the idea.

“ That will not be necessary. You are excused for the rest of your shift, go get some rest or some food.” The king heavily suggested. The elven guards nodded at the king and breathed out quick, grateful “thankyous” before bowing and walking away.

The king stood stationary for a moment until the elves were far enough down the hall. He then turned, robe swishing around his long legs, and walked door the long and mostly deserted corridors to the door of the office of his wife. The doorknob was cold on his hand as he carefully turned it, trying not to make a sound. He pushed the door open, trying to avoid any creaking from old hinges as he slipped in. He furtively walked into the room, the candle light low from dying candles, room quiet other than the sound of level breathing, there was no scratch of a quill to paper, of a quill dipping in an ink well, to be heard.

The blue eyes of Thranduil met the sleeping form of his wife. Her head laid on her folded arms that had been planted on the desk. Her hair was covering much of her face, only her slightly parted lips could be seen through the hair, a single strand moving as she breathed. Her inkwell and quill laid dangerously close to her right elbow, any twitch or adjustment likely to knock it over. The newly translated text could be seen peaking out from under her arms, the original book laying open and half off the table. Her long legs were under her chair, the chair itself having been pushed back from the desk and her torso stretched to allow her to rest in the position she rested in. The king could feel the smile pull on his lips as he looked at his resting wife. He would be angry that she hadn’t rested her work to go sleep but he knew her too well to be angry. He found the scene adorable, but knew he could not- and did not want to- leave her to rest that way.

Thranduil gracefully walked to the queen. He would have to be careful with how he woke her. If he woke he too fast or roughly, she would not be able to go back to rest, not to mention the mess of papers and ink that could result from any startled movements. Thranduil gently stroked along the queens arm, a single finger trailing up her arm to her shoulder and skipped to stoke across her face that was hidden by hair. He hooked his finger around the hair blocking her calm face, and tucked it behind her shoulder to reveal the beautiful face of his wife. He loved her face when she slept, the amount of peace it held brought a warmth and happiness to him. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, eye brows relieved of the tension that had been furrowed between them when he saw her this morning. The king continued to stroke the now exposed skin of her face, stroking a line over the exposed cheekbones then up and around her temple and down the jawline that was not covered by her arms. He ran a soft finger down the bridge of her nose, causing her to scrunch it up, and then across her top lip. He watched his wife start to stir, her lips pursing, eyebrows furrowing.

The queen was pulled from her sleep softly, but her mind was still whirling. She didn’t remember falling asleep. She remembered eating her dinner that Legolas had brought in, her and him laughing and discussing, and she remembered him dismissing himself with a gentle kiss to her cheek. Then, she remembered digging back into work, getting 5 pages translated before her eyes started to blur the words, she kept fighting through until the book looked like a drunk baby elf had written it. At that point, she remembers resting her eyes and head for a moment and now she was begin awoken. She opened her eyes tentatively to find the sapphire eyes of her husband staring back at her. She let out a groan but smiled anyway. Thranduil matched her smile.

“ Hello, sleepy head.” the king quietly cooed as his wife carefully sat up in her chair, eyes still holding sleep and begging to close.

“ How late is it?” she slurred with sleep heavy in her throat.

“ Very late.” The king whined. “ We should go to bed.” The king announced, a yawn pulling from his lips. His wife sleepily nodded and yawned too. She made no movement to move.

“ Carry me!” the queen whined, holding arms out before herself. Thranduil chuckled at his wife.

The pout on her face made him chuckle more before he put one of his long, strong arms around her shoulders and the other below her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck and assisted him as much as she could before his lifted her into his arms. He easily lifted her even with his tired body. She held tightly to him. His wife leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her husband’s cheek as he carried her to bed. She rested her head against his shoulder, the warmth of his chest lulling her into sleep as she fought against it.

“ When was the last time you slept, love?” The king whispered as he walked, the words vibrating in his chest that she had pressed her head against. She thought about it for a moment, her brain slightly fuzzy. She could only remember sleeping once.

“ That night that Legolas came to retrieve you at an ungodly hour for the guard scheduling problem.” She murmured. Thranduil stopped for a moment, his legs stopping on their own accord as he thought about that. It had been easily four days since then; he knew of her determination but never thought it was to that extent.

“ That was four days ago, my love.” The king stated aghast as he continued to walk. The queen nodded lightly, eyes closed again.

He got to the door of his chambers and carefully kicked it open. The king let out a sigh of relief as he entered, he could feel sleep pulling him. He gently placed the queen on the bed and pulled her cloak and boots off her as she lay sleeping. Her dress could stay, it was a common occurrence for her, and it did not cause her any distress or discomfort. The king took the heavy crown from his head, the rings from his fingers, the boots from his feet, and his excess clothing off before collapsing into the bed. He could faintly see the glow of the sun starting to rise and cursed inside. He hoped the advisers he had been speaking to would be too tired to go about their day this early and would allow him the luxury- or so it seemed recently- of cuddling with his wife and sleeping in. He found his wife wrapped in a ball, knees just about touching her chest. The king snuggled up next to her back, pressing his chest against her back. The king threw the blanket over their bodies, enjoying the softness and warmth it brought before wrapping one strong arm around his wife’s waist. She pushed back into him before his eyes began to shut. His nuzzled his head into the wild mane of hair before succumbing to sleep. With heart full and warm, body comfortable, bed full, he slept soundlessly.

*

Legolas had been sent for his father, the advisers requesting him. Legolas went to his fathers bedchamber and knocked on the door. When nothing happened he pushed the heavy door open, the wood scraping against the floor. He winced at the sound but looked at the bed of his father. The prince couldn’t help but smile at the sight that met him, his father wrapped tightly around the queen, both completely undisturbed by the noise. Legolas didn’t attempt to wake the sleeping royals, he knew it would be futile at this moment. He instead backed out of the room and shut the door as quietly as possible before turning and going to the advisers baring the message of a requested late start. Anything that was needed- that Legolas himself could not handle- was not nearly as needed as that moment of rest, peace and love. And so, the tired couple slept in till the sun was high in the sky.


End file.
